Unexplored Territory

Monday, April 24, 2006

Email etiquette

There is nothing in this world that drives me battier than forwarded emails. You know the ones ... the ones that contain "optical illusions" (said in my best Doug Henney voice) or "forward this on to five of your friends or you will meet a premature demise that will not be pretty" or "WARNING new email virus that will redecorate your house in a 1970s motif (which I would welcome, actually ... at least it would be decorated)."

And then there are the people who forward them on. My MIL used to do this ALL the time; now she does it SOME of the time. But there is one person in particular who is in our choir who does it on a regular basis, to the main mailing address of the entire choir.

Let's see... this informed citizen, let's call him Bill Paver, has now enlightened the choir with (1) telling the difference between the common brown house spider and the brown recluse, accompanied with pictures of what a recluse bite looks like (let's put it this way: recluse bites eat the flesh, so you can well imagine the picture that was attached); (2) optical illusions that I will abashedly admit to have looked at for a total of five minutes; and (3) the infinite wisdom of the Internet Christians, who believe that the only way to being Saved is to forward some sappy email with some equally sappy picture of an angel, telling you that you will enjoy life everlasting if you forward the email on to five people in five minutes; if you don't, the guarantee is no longer there.

Seriously, I don't see how our choir director is allowing this to go on. I keep waiting for him to inadvertently hit *reply all* and then cuss this guy out. Wouldn't THAT be a hoot?!?!? Let's just say Phil, oops, I mean BILL, would probably no longer want to sing with the choir. Or he could just keep going in his normal fashion and think that the director wasn't talking to him.

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I'm a mom of three peeps ... Queen Bee, The Door Man, and the Chandelier Monkey, and wife to Ace, the Helpful Hardware Man. I created this space to get away from the people known as my inlaws, and because life with three kids and a hubby is all Unexplored Territory.

The nine-year-old who seems to be growing older every minute, has an opinion and a comment for everything, and has a true servant's heart.

The seven-year-old who loves the organization of things, will someday be someone's therapist because of his kind soul, and will more than likely be living with us until he is 40 years old.

The five-year-old with the 13-year-old attitude, who has a dictator's personality, asks you to watch her all the time and say "hold on" to keep your attention, and will someday come home on the back of some dude's motorcycle with 10 tatts and a body piercing or two.

The man of the house, the fixer of things, the winner of prizes, and the only person in his family to escape the South.